Turnabout Corpse Groom
by Anonymous Lawyer Trash
Summary: For the AU that has become pretty well known.


The judge's empty eye sockets bore into him with such strange sympathy, while Larry started to laugh harder than his tiny larval body should have allowed. "We have to kill Edgeworth!"

"Cut it out, Larry." Phoenix stormed over and tried to crush the maggot within the pages of the book. Larry made a hasty retreat, but before he could collect himself the judge began to nod solemnly.

"Edgeworth must make the ultimate sacrifice; to give his own life for you. Repeating his vows in the land of the living, and drinking from the wine of ages, is the only way to consolidate your marriage."

"Poison…" Phoenix whispered in dismay, reaching to play with the necklace he'd forgotten wasn't around his neck. The action alone was enough to send him back into the same toxic loop of loneliness that had plagued him for months; yet the pain was raw, tenfold by how close he had been to escaping it. The green flames of the hearth that lit their small chamber offered no warmth as he stumbled over; reassurance he'd hoped to find absent from his decaying flesh.

"Only after his heart has stopped beating forever, will be truly be able to give him to you," the judge continued, turning the pages of the book as Phoenix began to sink to his knees. Through the many cracks and holes in the door Edgeworth could see the vividly painted bottle of liquid death sitting on a shelf mere meters away.

The corpse groom felt a sob escape his empty chest; surprised that his eyes were already full of fresh tears. "I couldn't ask him to do that… I won't."

His voice stopped shaking; enough for him to actually believe he could let Miles go.

"You don't have to," Miles stepped out of his hiding place, briskly walking over and holding his hand out to the mess. He knew how delusional he sounded, but the idea of dying wasn't as disturbing as it should have been. His dog, his father, and a man that sincerely cared about him. Compared to the thought of losing all that, a pulse didn't seem like such a big deal. "I'll do it."

Phoenix stared at him from the floor, determined to memorise the healthy colour in his cheeks and gentle expression as what he said played over in his mind. He stood with Edgeworth's help but his leg couldn't handle the strain and dislocated long enough for him to lose balance. Less than gracefully he found his face buried in the web of ruffles that made up that excuse of a cravat. But the closeness was so safe, and Edgeworth made no attempt to push him away, so for a second he just enjoyed the embrace he found himself in.

The judge waddled in between them, trying to keep Miles' attention from the practically glowing corpse. "To die for the one you love… Miles Edgeworth my boy, you would never be able to return to the world of the living. Are you sure this is the path you wish to take?"

He glanced at Wright again. He was trying so hard not to let himself get excited but that natural smile was already plastered over his face. Miles felt more tenderness for the disheveled corpse then he could anyone else, and the words leaving his mouth before he could think left his stomach tied in a knot of disturbing bliss.

"I do."

A blur of commotion later they were standing on the statue in the centre of town. People crowded around almost as far as they could see without even being told. Phoenix mumbled excitements under his breath, trying to calm down enough to talk.

"We're going to do this thing properly."

"Grab what you can; we're taking this wedding party upstairs." With such a simple line the entire city started to wake up from a long sleep. An ear splitting of joyful voices reached every corner of the small town; the dead all moving as fast as they could to figure out how they could contribute to their one and only groom's special day. A gaggle of zombified girls discussed their surprise to there even being an 'upstairs' as they picked whatever flowers managed to grow in the town square. Klavier threw his guitar into its case, not noticing his hand go with it or the fact both had caught fire again.

A top hat clad spirit appeared as quickly as she had vanished the first time they met, giggling at Miles as Phoenix was dragged away by a small horde. He offered her a polite bow, and Trucy took the second to analyse each rip and stain of dirt on his tattered jacket.

"You can't marry papa looking like that!" she squealed, taking off her cape and throwing it over the much taller man. Shouting something like 'allaka-wow', she pulled her cape off before he could question what she was doing. His jacket was completely changed; now a pristine, freshly ironed white with delicate embroidery on the sleeves and collar. Turning to try and examine the whole jacket earned a small applause from those still in the area, Trucy's eyes sparkling as she whispered to herself, "my greatest trick yet…"

The applause quieted to hushed voices. Miles knew; turning to watch as Phoenix reappeared from the building they'd rushed him into. His suit was still torn, his hair was still a mess, yet he'd never looked quite as stunning as he did trying to remain composed as he walked through the parting crowd. Not even Larry's pathetic wailing could take away from the sight of the girls reappearing with a new boutonniere of crisp white flowers, not seeking permission to toss his old one into the group and replacing it. He didn't so much as batter an eyelid, cheeks turning a darker shade of blue that could have been blushing as they ended next to each other in front of the entire deceased population.

"Up to the land of the living."

Upstairs, the party was already well underway. A dozen of the town's most 'noble folk' sat around a drab grey table, poking at a drab grey piece of meat they'd been served. The only thing that brought colour to the room was Pearls, carrying out a small but preciously iced cake. Silently leaving it between Mystic Maya and the Lady Hawthorne at the head of the table, she smiled and retreated to the kitchen.

"Quiet down, everyone." Dahlia stood tapping a spoon against her glass, but the only thing she was shushing was her own echo as the guests yawned or jolted out of a nap. "Thank you. I am honoured to be welcomed back into the Fey dynasty,"

Franziska almost choked on her wine, putting the glass down with a thud. "They're related?"

"Distant, distant…" A fat woman in spirit medium's uniform seated nearby waved her hand dismissively. Dahlia shot both a glare that didn't fail to remind Franziska of a snake.

"It was serendipity that brought me back to Kurain, but fate that brought Maya and myself together," She motioned to her 'bride'. Neither Maya or the only guest who could see something wrong with the scenario could stop from shuddering. "No force on heaven or earth could tear us apart."

The window blew open, snuffing out the few candles that lit what had been the slowest dinner in history. People shuffled uncomfortably in their seats as figures in the dark walked closer, skeletal faces illuminated by street lights. A diseased looking parrot flew out of the chimney and over the table; a single feather coming loose and floating down to the deathly pale party members.

Von Karma collected the tuff with his spoon. "There's a feather… in my soup."

Something so unremarkable was enough to send people into a general mass hysteria; screaming, fainting, trying to run. A young man trying to escape to the streets, where things weren't much better, narrowly missed being skewered by the sword sticking straight through the chest of Metis Cykes. "Sorry."

"Excuse me," Larry crawled uncomfortably close to someone's ear, and the poor fool was to terrified to swat him off. "Hi, Larry Butz; Ladies man. I used to be very close to your dead mother.

Standing relatively calmly in the midst of it all, Klavier pulled up a chair and started tuning his almost ashen guitar. Nearby, a brunette girl flipped a table to form a small barricade, yet still has the nerve to correct his G chord. With a smirk he obeyed, yet the smirk soon fell when she was clearly right. "I love a Fraulein with some intellect."

As a child and maybe not quite understand what had happened, Pearl happily offered some clearly deceased children cake and a game of hide and seek, their innocent laughter almost drowned out by the wails of others. Dahlia vanished upstairs looking for a certain item of jewellery she hadn't worn to the reception, while Maya somehow ended up cowering behind Franziska. Franziska, of course, was holding her own perfectly, whipping anything that moved or came too close.

Morgan Fey tried to escape the ballroom, not making it far before the stilettos she's worn snapped at the heal. From the middle steps she watched living people act like barbarians, and skeletons civilly trying to make their way to the church nearby. "If Misty were here to see this; she'd be turning in her grave."

"The grave, I have no doubt, you helped put me in."

The scene that followed perfectly captured the state most of the town had found themselves in; an infinite loop of unbridled terror and desperate need for clean underwear.


End file.
